


she's just my kind of girl

by sevtacular



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/pseuds/sevtacular
Summary: Alex goes back to Holby City to find Bernie Wolfe. Then she meets Fleur Fanshawe.





	she's just my kind of girl

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was never meant to happen but here it is. Blame @Regency for cheering me on (thanks for cheering me on)
> 
> title is from She's My Kind of Girl by ABBA

Alex comes back to Holby City to settle down. She’s getting older, looking for something more permanent. The hectic life of the army is behind her now. She’s thinking about the future. The fact that she chooses to return to the UK and settle many miles south from where she left for Afghanistan is simply her sense of adventure taking over. The fact that she applies for the job at Holby City Hospital has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that a friend of a friend from the army mentioned that Bernie had taken up a permanent position at that hospital. No, Alex thinks, stepping out of the taxi. Her future plans have not featured Bernie Wolfe at all. But maybe, if she happens to bump into her inside the hospital, and they were to go for drinks and rekindle what they had? Well, maybe then Alex’s future plans would include the trauma surgeon. Not that Alex has considered that happening, of course.

Alex enters the Wyvern Wing and immediately decides to grab a coffee. She’s arrived in plenty of time for her interview and coffee will help her to settle her nerves. The fact that there’s a rather large morning rush queue and she knows Bernie always needs coffee in the morning has absolutely no influence over her decision. She left Bernie here two years ago to sort her life out. She must have done by now, if she’s stayed. But contacting Alex out in Afghanistan will have been logistically difficult. Bernie never was one for communicating emotions, anyway. 

Alex shuffles forward in the queue, absolutely not thinking about Bernie Wolfe. She’s definitely not wondering what her hair is like, how she’s aged, what colour her scrubs are. It’s been a while, for sure. In fact, Alex isn’t even sure she can remember clearly all the small details she once knew about Bernie. There’s been a couple of women since her. None have lasted. Alex smiles ruefully to herself. The others were all her age or a bit younger. Maybe she has a thing for women who are a little older than her, Alex muses.

She’s so absorbed in not mooning over Bernie Wolfe that it takes three attempts for the barista to get her attention. Even then, it’s not the barista but the person behind her sharply jabbing her in the back that brings her out of her daydreams. Alex shakes her head in a futile to clear the thoughts then pays for her coffee. She turns to apologise to the person she’s held up and suddenly all thoughts of Bernie Wolfe disappear.

The woman behind her, if Alex had to guess, is slightly older than Alex herself. She’s got dark wavy hair and painted red lips and amused eyes. She’s gorgeous.  
“Uhm, ah, sorry,” Alex stutters out.  
“Ooh, a Northern girl. Don’t worry about it, dreamer. Your accent alone makes up for the wait.” The way she smiles and allows her eyes to travel up and down suggests to Alex that this woman, this ethereal, funny, beautiful woman, may find Alex more than a little appealing. The barista calls the orders and the moment is broken. Alex decides to wait a little, see if she can talk to this woman some more. It’s not to be. She turns and hands a cup of coffee (how did Alex not realise she had ordered two?) to a woman waiting nearby with cropped brown hair and a beaming smile. Of course she’s taken, Alex thinks. Of course. She sips her coffee and burns her tongue. Decides to go and find where her interview is.

Her interview is delayed. Due to a mailing issue, people were not informed. Alex has three hours to wait. She decides she may as well go and find Bernie, see how she is. Alex’s future plans always were to include Bernie, right? She may as well admit it. Even if now (sorry Bernie), Alex’s plans seem so much more enticing if they have a different woman in them. She can always get to know Bernie as a friend again. If Alex gets the job they may end up working alongside each other anyway.

 

Alex learns that Bernie runs the trauma bay on AAU. She finds that easily enough. As she wanders onto the ward, she takes in the organised chaos. Patients sat talking to their families or nurses. Various doctors and porters moving around in a never-ending group dance. Then, finally, a mop of tousled blonde hair comes out from behind a curtain and Bernie strides across the ward in navy scrubs. She may not be in fatigues but she still commands a room. Alex smiles.

She follows where Bernie has gone and sees her in the office with who Alex presumes is her co-lead. Alex realises that Bernie’s co-lead is the woman who is in a relationship with the gorgeous woman from the coffee queue. She’s about to knock when the shorter-haired woman leads forward and captures Bernie’s lips. It’s so brief Alex could have imagined it, but the way Bernie has flushed gives it away. That, and the way their hands are courting each other – fingers just dancing along one another, not quite holding hands in a working environment, but seeking the grounding presence of another.

Alex is confused. Because if Bernie is with this woman, then why was Bernie’s girlfriend with the flirt in the coffee shop? Alex is so absorbed in her own thoughts that she forgets she’s basically stood gaping into her ex’s office. It’s Bernie standing before her looking bemused that snaps her out of her reverie. 

It turns out that Serena is perfect for Bernie. Alex is happy for her old boss, truly. Bernie seems content and happy and fulfilled. She shows Alex her phone lockscreen, a photo of she and Serena with a baby who Bernie introduces as their granddaughter/great-niece Guinevere. They are the picture of happiness. Serena laughs.  
“In fact, I was talking to Fleur about Guinevere this morning.” Bernie laughs. Alex’s ears prick up. She knows in the bottom of her soul that Fleur is the gorgeous consultant she briefly met.  
“Fleur?” Alex tries to sound casual but her accent cracks slightly, giving away her interest. Bernie notices and laughs.  
“Oh yes, Fleur’s a right minx. She’s seen more of the women of Holby in bed than I’ve had hot dinners.” Serena swats her partner. Alex gulps. Is Fleur a bit of a serial womaniser? Alex is pretty sure she’d surrender to her any day.

-

Alex leaves Bernie and Serena when a trauma call comes in. She thinks they may be all be friends. It’s a weird situation to find yourself in, being mates with your ex and her new partner. She supposes she and Bernie were always mates before they were lovers. Perhaps, Alex muses, she’ll do better if she starts a relationship in a romantic, sexual way rather than a friendship way. 

She should probably stop pining over that dark-haired Fleur, anyhow, before she ends up in trouble with her thoughts. Her interview is soon, anyway.

Abigail Tate’s quite pretty, if you’re into the blonde in a position of power thing. In a previous life, Alex would probably have knelt before Abigail Tate. As it is, her mind keeps wandering to a small fun-loving womaniser who may or may not have had every woman in Holby.

“Ms Dawson?” Abigail’s voice cuts through Alex’s musings. She looks at her interviewer and swallows.   
“Yes, Ms Tate?”  
“I asked if you had any comments or questions,” Ms Tate prompts.  
“Oh, erm. Just that I think this hospital is, uh. Great. Really great. Lots of um, welcoming people. Like Fleur um? I don’t know her surname. She’s good with women.” Abigail raises her eyebrows and Alex wants to die on the spot. She’s definitely not getting the job now. She’s basically admitted that she at least fancies Fleur without having got to know her properly first. Why did she decide to leave the army again?  
“Ms Dawson, Holby City Hospital is diverse and welcoming and I’m sure Ms Fanshawe, our head of obs and gynae, would be more than happy to work alongside you.”

Fleur is the head of obs and gynae. Of course she is. Hence the comment about women. Alex is going to bloody kill Bernie and her new girlfriend. It’s not like she’s going to be getting a job here, anyway.

-

 

Alex is sat waiting for Bernie and Serena in their office when her phone rings. She picks it up and by the time Bernie and Serena arrive back into the office from theatre Alex is grinning.  
“Guess who’s Holby City Hospital’s hot new anaesthetist, guys?”

-

To celebrate, Alex lets Bernie and Serena take her to the bar across the way for drinks. She spends it feeling like she’s intruding on something private. It makes her want to vomit. Why should she watch her ex make eyes at her girlfriend when Alex has no woman to make eyes at herself? She’s just downed her third rum and coke in an hour when Serena pats her on the shoulder.  
“Alex, meet Fleur. Fleur, this is Alex, our new anaesthetist and one of Bernie’s ex-army colleagues.”  
“Bernie’s ex, actually,” Alex grins, the drink loosening her tongue. Before her, Fleur’s dark lips split into a dangerously flirtatious smile.  
“An ex-soldier with short, dark hair and a cute accent? Let’s get properly acquainted, Alex. Our brief dalliance this morning was nothing compared to the evening we’re going to have.”

 

Bernie and Serena must have left, but Alex couldn’t say when. She’s spent the night staring at the gorgeous sassy lesbian who works at the hospital Alex is also now employed at. Fleur is everything. They’re talking and flirting and at some point Fleur’s hand has found itself resting rather high up Alex’s thigh and Alex has opened her legs just slightly, an invite, a promise.

When last orders are called, they stumble up and head to the door, struggling into their coats on the way. Instead of heading for the taxi rank like the rest of the people, Fleur takes Alex by the hand and pulls her round the side of the building. 

It turns out that shagging a gorgeous woman round the back of a building sobers Alex up more than most hangover cures. She’s going to have scratches down her back from where the bricks are scraping her roughly through her coat but she doesn’t care, she’s got Fleur in her arms and they’re kissing and kissing and kissing whilst fingers explore under clothes. When Fleur’s sure fingers press against the spot that has Alex seeing stars, she knows she’s done for.

-

There’s a phone ringing somewhere, it’s piercing through Alex’s early morning hangover brain. It takes her a moment to realise the tune isn’t her own ringtone. A body leans over her to grab something from the bedside table. Alex blinks open her eyes against the harsh light of the day and smiles. Fleur Fanshawe. Gloriously naked and happily content with the fact. Alex never did like a woman who feels the need to cover herself up in bed after a night of passion. Fleur’s hair is mussed and last night’s makeup is smudged across her cheeks. Alex thinks she looks radiant. 

It takes Alex a moment to realise that it was a FaceTime notification on Fleur’s phone. Fleur has tucked herself back under the covers and is conversing with Bernie and Serena through the screen. Serena smiles through the screen.  
“So, Fleur? You look to have slept in very little last night if your bare shoulders are anything to go by. Do anything nice after we left?” Serena raises an eyebrow through the screen and Fleur coughs awkwardly.  
“Might have done.”  
“Morning Alex!” Bernie smugly shouts through the screen. Alex groans and shuffles towards Fleur, instinctively wrapping her arms around the other woman’s curves.  
“Mornin’ Bern,” Alex husks.  
“Oh my, that accent is a treat early in the morning,” Fleur turns to her, forgetting the phone momentarily as their lips meet. It drops screen-down against the covers.

 

“Oi! We’re still here you know!” Bernie shouts into the bedsheets from the other side of the call.  
“Oh, bugger off!” Fleur mutters against Alex’s jawline. She picks up the phone and looks into it. “Serena, keep your girlfriend occupied for a while. I won’t be taking any more calls for the foreseeable future.” 

As Fleur disconnects the call, Alex has to agree with her. There are far better things she can think of doing this morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Look guys, I am firmly on team Fleur deserves a hot gf and Alex is definitely her type. So Fleurlex (is that even a name? who knows?) became 2k of vaguely coherent musings. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.


End file.
